


Memories Carved In Flesh

by omegasquire



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Blood and Injury, Bloodplay, Dubious Consent, Injury, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 06:42:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10531020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omegasquire/pseuds/omegasquire
Summary: “Don’t think this to be a dream. I want you to remember with every inch of your body, every part of your mind, what we did.” - Cloud can't possibly erase what happened between them. This isn't the first time, and he knows it won't be the last, but with every ounce of his being, he'll fight what Sephiroth insists is meant to be. He won't surrender, no matter how good it feels...





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for someone whom I share dirty, dangerous, nsfw scenarios with concerning Sephiroth & Cloud. It's definitely a dark piece. I haven't written something like this in a very long time, so I have my doubts about how good it is, but hopefully it works out well.

The world is already quiet by the time his camp is set. Tending to a small fire, enough to chase off the worst of the night’s chill, and enough to heat his dinner, Cloud watches the wood be slowly eaten. His muscles ache from fatigue; he’s been traveling all day, and tomorrow will be the same. The package he’s meant to deliver this time reaches far across the continent, and it will take time to safely maneuver through the different terrains. He had estimated the whole trip to take him three days, but now he’s not too certain. The weather doesn’t look promising. He may have to find a place to settle before he’s caught in a storm.

Gathering up his trash, he cleans up the campsite and tucks away what he can in the seat compartment of his bike, and the rest inside his tent. The fire is smothered and he waits for the embers to die before he ducks into the tent to sleep. A soft sigh escapes his lips as he lays down, stretching across the mat on his back. He has enough mind to throw the blanket over himself before letting sleep claim him.

When a dream takes hold of his mind, it’s gentle and light, like floating in a sea of colors that caress his form. It’s familiar, even though he can’t place how. He supposes it’s a bit like drifting in the Lifestream, when all of his worries and aches and sorrows are cast away, leaving only a pure vision of himself. After a hard day, this quiet serenity is greatly appreciated, and Cloud has no interest in trying to control it.

He allows the dream to guide him along. Soothing whispers reach his ears. A touch, so faint it’s almost nonexistent, teases his skin. Fingertips dance along his legs and arms, up to his neck and face. Cloud relaxes as the contours of his face are explored; it’s been a long time since he’s allowed anyone to touch him at leisure. Tifa and the children will occasionally indulge in contact with him, but not like this.

_Cloud..._

The soft strokes drift back down, outlining the curve of his jaw and tracing the slope of his neck. Cloud doesn’t fight when the touch lingers, though some part of him questions why.

_Have you missed me?_

A furrow forms between his brows. The hold around his neck slowly tightens, and he reaches up to stop it, only to find he cannot move. Somehow the peaceful sea has become vines and chains to hold him down.

_Do you remember the pain?_

Pressure curls tight around his esophagus. He struggles, twisting against the grip on his body. He knows this voice, knows it all too well, and he wants to eradicate it from his mind. Both memory and reality bring nothing but distress and anguish.

_The **pleasure**?_

His heartrate elevates and he strains against his bonds. They crack and snap, and with a shout, he rips free. His body jerks upright and his eyes dart around the tent for signs of _him_. Nothing. Cloud reaches up and carefully touches his neck. He doesn’t feel any bruises (would-be or existing), but his skin is hot with the memory of those fingers squeezing around him.

Lips pulling into a foul grimace, Cloud pushes aside the blanket and exits the tent. He knows he won’t be able to sleep properly now. He stops by Fenrir and opens the sword compartments to pull free First Tsurugi and slide it into the strap behind his back. If he can’t sleep, maybe a walk will help him dispel the nightmare.

He wanders away from camp, searching for nothing except hoping to find something to distract him. The greenery is scattered, bushes and trees taking root between the rocks that climb toward the sky. Driving through dangerous and narrow slopes has put a damper on Cloud’s timing, but there is no denying how beautiful the scenery is. Despite how much the land has changed after the Lifestream played a heavy hand in stopping Meteor, nature remains a stunning sight to behold.

    _It deserves to be destroyed._

The words are whispered between his ears, silver and smooth. Cloud’s eyes narrow as he pushes against the presence trying to invade his mind. He’s heard it many times before, slipping under his skin and drinking in his pain and suffering with greedy lips. Just when he thinks he’s free from the dragon’s grip, it traps him and sinks its fangs into his neck and threatens to shred apart who he is.

Cloud climbs higher, seeking a place where he can breathe with greater ease. His chest is tight, haunted by memories he’d rather forget. He wants to erase the words from his mind, and burn away the feeling of lips near the shell of his ear.

“You can’t deny what’s happened.”

Cloud spins around, his hand automatically reaching for his sword. The dark of night leaves much to the imagination, but he can see _him_ standing there. The man doesn’t care to hide himself, like he’s welcoming Cloud’s attention. Too many times had Cloud chased after him, searching to no avail, grasping at shadows, but now, that which he once longed for is well within reach and he wants _nothing_ to do with it:

 _Sephiroth_.

“What are you doing here?” Cloud’s grip on the handle of his sword tightens.

A smile forms on Sephiroth’s lips, snide and knowing. Cloud hates that look. “It’s been a long time. I thought myself forgotten.”

Cloud bares his teeth and pulls his sword free. The blade opens to reveal its core, dual ends razor sharp as they ought to be. He doesn’t like the idea of not having a weapon between him and Sephiroth; nothing good ever occurs when there’s nothing to bar Sephiroth’s attacks.

Sephiroth’s gaze shifts to First Tsurugi but shows no sign of fear for having its tip pointed at him. As the Masamune forms in his hand, it’s _anticipation_ that lights his gaze as he meets Cloud’s vehement stare. “I see I was wrong. Will we do this again? Fight until you finally accept your place?”

Cloud refuses to acknowledge these words. He blocks them from his mind as energy crackles along the length of his sword. _Nothing_ good comes out of being in Sephiroth’s presence. Not then, not now, not ever.

They move at once, meeting in the middle. The sound of metal grinding against metal is accompanied by faint sparks that light the space between them. It’s a fight of strength and will, and Cloud will do his damnedest to beat Sephiroth at his own game.

And it truly is a game. He doesn’t take Cloud seriously, and plays with him like a cat does a mouse, and Cloud hates it. Despite all that he’s accomplished, despite how many times he’s won, Sephiroth belittles him and holds him down under his boot with no acknowledgment of having lost.

Strikes come in fast and hard, and Cloud cannot afford to let his mind wander. As sparks fly and the two of them chase each other along the cliffside, Cloud pushes through the fatigue already settling in his muscles. Even though the battle was tipped out of his favor from the start, he won’t give Sephiroth the satisfaction of seeing him stumble and fall.

The Masamune sneaks past his defense and cuts at his shoulder. Cloud bites back a hiss of pain and turns away from the blade before it can come up toward his face. He side-steps and shifts from defense to offense, swinging his sword in a heavy arc that drives a deep fissure in the ground when it strikes. He doesn’t like that he’s missed, but at least it’s pushed Sephiroth back a few feet. The space gives Cloud room to weigh his current choices. He knows he needs to finish the battle quickly; his body can only do so much in its current state, and the burn of mako in his veins will only carry him so far.

Narrowing his eyes, Cloud anticipates the thrust that comes, parrying it as the blade pierces the space by his head. He doesn’t, however, catch the hand that reaches for him and snatches the front of his shirt. A powerful grip jerks him off balance, and Cloud stumbles to right his stance while blocking a series of thrusts and slashes.

The heel of his boot hits a stubborn rock and he nearly trips over it. He manages to remain upright, but there’s a hole in his defense as the Masamune draws blood on his thigh. Cloud grits his teeth and forces his weight forward to push Sephiroth back. He’s granted a spare couple feet, but not nearly enough to be well out of striking range.

Cloud doesn’t like it, but he needs to leave. Just a moment to reassess and calculate his odds. Gripping First Tsurugi with both hands, Cloud knocks back an attack, and once he sees a break between Sephiroth’s attacks, he quickly turns and makes haste for the trees. It won’t do much in slowing Sephiroth down, but even half a second is better than none.

He knows he doesn’t have much time, but once he’s deep in the thicket, he braces a hand against a tree trunk. His chest heaves, and he curses his foul luck.

    _You can’t escape me, Cloud..._

Cloud flinches and ducks just as the tree he’s been leaning upon is sliced in half. The forest is cleared in a single swing of Sephiroth’s sword, leaving no barrier between the two of them. Twisting around, Cloud barely brings his sword up in time to deflect Sephiroth’s sword. He can’t stop a kick from slamming into his gut, knocking him back far enough to send him tumbling onto rocky ground.

As soon as he can get a hand under him and change his momentum, he rolls up to his feet. His body screams at him, pleading for him to run away from this fight and recuperate. Cloud ignores the telling signs, hissing when Sephiroth is on him again, drawing a deep gouge through his side. Blood wells to the mouth of the wound and soaks into his clothes, and Cloud stumbles as dizziness suddenly hits him. He forces himself to move despite every fiber of his body begging otherwise, and focuses on Sephiroth.

The man is smirking at him. “How much longer will you be able to keep this up? You’re barely holding on, grasping for leverage that doesn’t exist. I can end your suffering.”

These are the words of a devil, and Cloud tells himself not to listen. “Liar. You do nothing but torment me.”

A chuckle rumbles deep in Sephiroth’s chest. “Are you saying you’ve forgotten the times I’ve made you feel good?” His eyes slowly trail down Cloud’s body before coming back to his face. “I know every inch of you: what you hate, what you crave, and _who_ is the only one to give you satisfaction.”

Sephiroth’s arm sweeps out invitingly. “How long has it been since you came to me? Hunted me down under the pretense of stopping me? You and I both know why you keep gravitating toward me. Admit it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cloud snarls. His arms tremble under the weight of his sword, finding it difficult to remain steady on his feet.

“No?” Sephiroth’s brows draw up his forehead. “You’re not being honest. Shall I remind you? Make you experience once more the truth behind your obsession?”

Cloud’s legs shift, widening his stance. “If anyone’s obsessed, it’s you. Sorry, but I don’t like clingy people.”

Amusement is evident in the taller man’s eyes as he angles his sword toward Cloud again. “How ironic...”

Without warning, Sephiroth comes at him. Cloud meets him, blocking and parrying as quickly as he can. The Masamune occasionally slices him, decorating his body in cuts of various lengths and depths. Cloud tilts his head just enough to avoid being decapitated, but not so much as to avoid a line of red from forming across the slope of his neck. It’s not enough to hit a vein, but that doesn’t stop the discomfort that shakes Cloud’s hands and brings a fierce beat to his heart.

His hands come up too late to block Sephiroth and he loses his grip on First Tsurugi. It skids across the ground, leaving Cloud open for attack. There is no hesitation when Sephiroth plunges his sword into Cloud’s leg, hip, then just below the collarbone. The blade catches under bone and serves as just enough of a hook to allow Sephiroth to swing Cloud around and knock him back against a rock wall.

Cloud gasps and grabs at the wall. He lifts his head to find Sephiroth on him, only this time it’s the man’s hand that makes contact, taking him by the throat in a merciless grip. Cloud snatches Sephiroth’s wrist and tries to pry himself free, but he can’t. He’s slammed back against the wall once more, and it knocks the air out of him. Rough, jagged rock digs into his back, threatening to tear his shirt as he’s pulled up to the tips of his toes. He’s hardly able to keep upright, all but hanging in Sephiroth’s grasp.

The man shifts closer to him, towering over him with a height that forces Cloud to tilt his head back just to make eye contact. He bares his teeth at Sephiroth, hating how the space between them has become so small, there’s nowhere for Cloud to escape.

A deep chuckle rumbles in Sephiroth’s chest as he, too, notes Cloud’s unfortunate predicament. The Masamune is gone and the hand that isn’t pinning Cloud comes to the blond’s side. Gloves fingers dig where a deep wound has been made, making Cloud jerk as pain flares within him. He tenses as Sephiroth presses against it more firmly, trying not to give the man the joy of hearing him cry out.

It’s not until he feels the tips of Sephiroth’s fingers slip ever so slightly into the wound that he can’t hold back. Pain is etched in his features, and when he tries to wrench Sephiroth’s fingers out of him, his arms shake with the effort.

“Remember?” Sephiroth asks in a low voice. “You always resist. You try to pretend you don’t like what is to come. _But I know._ This is foreplay. In the end, you enjoy what I’m about to do to you.”

“Shut up. You’re delusional,” Cloud spits in return.

“Am I?” Sephiroth’s brows arch. “I am not the one who lives a life of lies. How often do you go out, running from your so-called family? How many times have you told them you’re working, only to come find me? Have they asked you about the wounds? Do they wonder about the bruises?”

The hand on Cloud’s neck digs in deeper, not only to cut off his air, but leave behind dark, purple marks that will linger for days. It won’t be the first time his skin has been decorated with such marks after being with Sephiroth.

Darkness creeps around the edges of his vision. Before it can draw over completely, air suddenly flows into his lungs as Sephiroth loosens his grip. Coughing, Cloud finds the energy to shove the hand still digging at his side. It offers poor reprieve as Sephiroth takes him by the front of his pants and squeezes down to an uncomfortable degree. It makes Cloud flinch, his brows knitting together when the heel of Sephiroth’s palm presses at the base of his crotch.

He knows what’s coming, and his window to flee is dwindling fast.

Sephiroth brings his mouth to Cloud’s ear and whispers, “You will beg. You will fall on your knees and submit yourself to me.”

His breath is hot and moist against Cloud’s skin, making the younger man shudder. A mix of disgust and damnable _want_ races along the length of Cloud’s spine, settling in the space between his hips. “Never.”

The front of his pants is rubbed and teased; Sephiroth strokes him through the fabric, inciting an old carnal response. He tries to shift away, but there’s nowhere to go. Enjoyment decorates Sephiroth’s voice. “ _Always._ You are bound to me by the cells in your blood. That is your collar and leash. I own you.”

Sephiroth’s mouth moves down, nosing aside the high collar of Cloud’s shirt, until he finds the cut on Cloud’s neck. With a smirk, Sephiroth catches the cut between his teeth and bites. A startled and pained yelp escapes Cloud, and a hand comes up to shove at Sephiroth’s chest, but Sephiroth snatches it in a fierce grip and slams it back against the wall.

Cloud flinches as the man’s teeth grind against his flesh, irritating the wound to the point it bleeds more freely. “Get off me,” he hisses, features twisting in discomfort when Sephiroth works at his neck and marks him.

The hand between his legs continues to rub and stroke, drawing blood in a different manner. He’s starting to strain against his pants, but not enough to demand freedom. Rather, Sephiroth pulls his hand away to take hold of the zipper of Cloud’s shirt and roughly pull it down. The fabric parts and reveals fair skin that’s seen its share of battles. Faint scars of old fights are scattered on his torso, almost imperceptible. There is only one scar that stands out, puckered skin layered from repeated injury. It sits in the center of his chest, just shy of his heart.

Sephiroth leans back just enough to look at it, and a vulnerability Cloud has never felt before rises fast and hard within him. There is an intimacy in that scar that can only be shared with the one who made it, and Cloud can’t stand for Sephiroth to stare at it like it’s some marvel or beauty mark to admire.

Cloud twists and swings with his free hand to hit Sephiroth. The man doesn’t lean back enough to dodge, and Cloud’s fist slams into his cheek. Sephiroth’s head jerks to the side, and when Cloud brings his knee up to catch the older man in the crotch, Sephiroth whips back around to shove the leg aside and hit Cloud in return.

Sephiroth releases Cloud’s wrist only to strike at the wound at Cloud’s side. Cloud chokes on a cry as pain explodes, making him double over. Sephiroth doesn’t waste time and pushes Cloud down to his knees.

Cloud clutches at the wound, clenching his jaw as his heart pounds against his chest and blood continues to soak into his clothes. Red paints his bare flesh in an ugly smear, and putting pressure around it does little to staunch the flow.

A gloved hand suddenly grabs the crown of his head and jerks it back. Cloud gasps, grimacing as he is forced to look up at Sephiroth. He finds his vision partly obscured by the presence of an erection inches away from his face. Somehow, in the short time he is trying to keep from bleeding all over the place, Sephiroth has managed to free his cock. It’s not yet at its full size, and when Cloud meets the man’s eye, he knows what will be commanded of him to make sure it does.

The fist tightens around his hair and a spark of pain makes Cloud flinch again. He glares up at Sephiroth, but doesn’t – _can’t_ – break away when he’s drawn forward. Sephiroth rubs against his cheek and he shuts his eye when the head comes too close to that part of his face. The cut just below his cheekbone is shallow, but it bleeds just enough to let Sephiroth create a streak of red that leads to his mouth.

He doesn’t want to be forced to take the cock in his mouth, so he parts his lips and lets it invade him. The heat and weight settles heavy on his tongue, and he refuses to acknowledge how familiar it tastes, even with the faint tang of his own blood at the tip. Brows knit together, and Cloud barely considers biting down when the hold on his hair curls in slightly; it’s the only warning he knows he’ll get if he tries.

He wraps his lips around Sephiroth’s cock, stroking and teasing the head with his tongue before taking it further into his mouth. It takes him a moment to find the proper angle, but soon he’s moving his head back and forth, attempting to coax it to full size.

His mouth is dry, hardly pleasing enough to make Sephiroth completely erect, but Cloud is having a hard time offering what he knows Sephiroth needs. He can feel how little the result of his efforts is, and a disappointment that stems from pride deepens the frown between his eyebrows. When the grip on his hair changes, he glances up at Sephiroth. Desire heats his eyes, and the intensity of it makes Cloud shudder.

He hates how his position leaves him under the control of another. Stuck between the man’s legs, mouth full of cock, Cloud tries to gather his strength to push back against the hand on his head. However, he feels gloved fingers dive in again. They catch at the base of his head, twisting in the short strands of blond hair. It triggers an unmistakable and disgusting sensation of arousal that mainlines from the point of contact to his own growing erection.

Where Sephiroth had grabbed at the top of his head, his adjusted grip gives birth to a small tremble that spreads across Cloud’s limbs. He abhors how he enjoys the stimulation, rough yet not so much it distracts from the pleasure. His scalp tingles, and Cloud can’t hide the way his body responds. His eyes squeeze shut, wishing he can ignore all physical sensation, but as he robs himself of sight, he becomes more aware of the taste of Sephiroth in his mouth, and the smell of his desire as it tickles his nose.

“This is where you belong, Cloud. It may have been a long time, but your body still remembers.” Even though he’s not looking, Cloud can hear the gloat in the man’s tone. “It finds fulfillment in supplication.”

Cloud makes a sound of denial, but that doesn’t stop his mouth from watering. It’s sickeningly arousing how Sephiroth pulls him around, using the base of his head like a wheel to angle him in the most pleasing way to himself. Cloud doesn’t want to succumb to his carnal instincts, and he tries to push his head back, his free hand coming up to brace against Sephiroth’s hip, but the moment he does is the same moment Sephiroth suddenly shoves forward.

Cloud nearly chokes, and forces back his gag reflex. His fingers curl tight into the leather of Sephiroth’s jacket, willing himself to remain relaxed for the other man as he pulses and thickens inside his mouth. Sephiroth thrusts with little mind to his comfort, showing he only cares for his own satisfaction.

Precum mixes with Cloud’s saliva and leaves a warm, slightly bitter taste on his tongue. He won’t admit how familiar it is, or how no matter how rough Sephiroth is now, this part is the most crucial out of everything. If he doesn’t do this right, Cloud knows it’ll be worse for him later.

Sephiroth suddenly jerks him back, freeing himself from the moist cavern of Cloud’s mouth. Cloud dares to open his eyes and sees the fruit of his suffering. Sephiroth is fully erect and glistening with Cloud’s saliva. It’s an erotic sight, and Cloud fiercely berates himself for thinking it.

“Look at you.” Sephiroth angles his head up, slipping a finger into his mouth. Cloud glares up at him but doesn’t bite down even now. “Your face is flushed, and your lips are plump and wet. I almost want to thrust back in and make you swallow me down your throat.”

“Fuck you.” The words are slightly garbled with Sephiroth’s finger still pressing down on his moist tongue.

A chuckle follows as Sephiroth withdraws his finger. “A poor choice of words.”

Cloud is suddenly jerked up and turned around to face the rock wall. He catches himself before he hits it face first, but can’t stop from being pressed against it by the back of his neck. He manages to turn his head and sees Sephiroth out of the corner of his eye. The bastard is smirking at him.

Without warning, Cloud’s belt is roughly pulled free and his pants are jerked down, baring his backside. The cuts on his hip and thigh are bold decorations on his skin, just as prominent as the bruises that will blossom on Cloud’s neck. When air kisses his half-formed erection, Cloud hates himself for being even remotely aroused.

His hand curls into a fist and he tries to hit Sephiroth. His wrist is caught and his arm twisted high behind his back. Grimacing, Cloud doesn’t struggle in order to avoid having his shoulder ripped from its socket. His jaw clenches and the cords of muscles that line his back tense when Sephiroth draws close, once more using his height to tower over him.

“You still continue to fight, but I suppose that’s just part of your nature. You don’t want to acknowledge the truth of your desires, just like you don’t want to acknowledge this docile life as an _errand boy_ is unfulfilling. You don’t know how to live without fighting, but who will challenge you?” Sephiroth’s hand drags down the length of Cloud’s spine, pausing at the base of his tailbone before dipping between the valley of his cheeks. The touch against his anus makes Cloud jerk, only to wince when it causes him to exceed the flexibility of his shoulder. “You hunt monsters and go on long trips to find a way to keep your sword and senses sharp. Yet it’s not enough. You’ve hit a plateau. That’s why we’re here. That’s why you and I always find ourselves in each other’s company.”

Cloud tries to resist the penetration, but he can’t counter the insistence Sephiroth presents. He hisses when the digit pushes into him, slick with his saliva – perhaps the only reason he’s not screaming in pain.

Sephiroth’s mouth settles close to his ear, and Cloud shivers from the dual stimulation of having hot, moist breath against his skin, and the curl of Sephiroth’s finger inside him. There’s no need for Sephiroth to search, and the tease irritates Cloud. His scowls, both at himself and the other man, for being strung along by the basest of desires.

“Let me go,” he growls.

Instead of complying, Sephiroth slips a little deeper in him. There isn’t an ounce of hesitation or uncertainty as he presses hard against Cloud’s prostate, triggering a gasp that melts into a groan. The sound can’t be swallowed as Sephiroth pays too much against to that particular spot, and the erection hailing between his legs is equally undeniable.

“You say that, but then why are you hard?” Sephiroth slowly pulls back, but only enough for press a second finger at the ring of Cloud’s asshole, gradually stretching him. “You hunger for this. You relish in being touched this way. There’s no one else who can cause you fall apart and make you realize just how much you long to be controlled and commanded.”

The digits move within him. The friction is just shy of being too painful, and Cloud digs his fingers into the rock to distract from it. He barks a short, sarcastic laugh, ignoring the renewed tremble that possesses his body. “I’ve never been that way.”

Sephiroth chuckles in turn. “No? Did you not willingly surrender the Black Materia to me? Or follow me across the world like a lost little pup seeking its master?” There’s a faint smirk on his lips. “You consider yourself a wolf now, strong even alone. What a laughable lie. You’re still that pup, searching for direction and purpose. You haven’t changed since the day you were a recruit.”

He’s loose enough for a third finger, and when Sephiroth isn’t all that gentle about adding the extra digit, Cloud chokes on a cry and clings to the wall. The sensation of having this larger width stretching him brings forth a conflicting reaction in Cloud. While he doesn’t like how easily his body adjusts and accepts the penetration, he wishes this isn’t the end of it.

He loathes how he wants more than just fingers inside him. Clenching his teeth, he won’t confess how, knowing what he can get, he craves to be filled by it. There’s a despicable emptiness in him he longs to satisfy, and it stands erect mere inches away. Struggling against his pride and bodily instinct, Cloud turns his head away and shakes under Sephiroth’s tortuous ministrations.

“Do you want it?” Sephiroth’s mouth is at his jaw, his wicked tongue flicking out to taste Cloud’s skin just below his ear. “Beg me for it, and I will give it to you.”

Cloud bites his tongue. He tries to think of other things besides the fire in his loins, the bead of pre forming at the head of his cock, or the ache at his backside. It’s impossible, especially when Sephiroth continues to tease him, dancing along the fine edge of pain and pleasure. Every time those digits withdraw, Cloud wants to push his hips back and chase after them; every time they thrust forward, he swallows down a moan.

“Let me show you once more why you and I are meant to be one. Don’t run from me, Cloud. You know you can never escape.” Sephiroth’s voice lowers. “You don’t _want_ to.”

Cloud turns his head again to glare at Sephiroth over his shoulder, but just as he opens his mouth to snarl his rebuttal, Sephiroth abruptly pulls out. Cloud’s face quickly shifts from shock to disappointment to _need_. He can’t find the words he wants to snap back at Sephiroth, surprised by the sudden loss of contact. The ring of his anus throbs in time with his heart, aching for something to thrust back into it.

“I– ”

Sephiroth only looks down at him, waiting with impossible patience that contradicts the erection that still stands tall between his legs. Cloud can barely see it in the corner of his eye, but the sight of it, and the guaranteed pleasure it can give him, cracks his resolve.

He doesn’t want to say it.

Silence hangs between them – a silence that stretches through the night; not even wind or the moon disrupts them – until Cloud finds his lips parting as if on their own. He can hardly believe his ears when his voice formulates two awful words: “Fuck me.”

Sephiroth’s narrow at the admission, a smile curling his mouth. “How shall I fuck you?”

An angry flush colors Cloud’s cheeks. “Just fuck me,” he forces out.

“How can I know what you want if you’re not clear?” Sephiroth’s hand returns, but not to enter him. Instead, it settles on Cloud’s hip, digging slightly into the slash wound. It doesn’t distract Cloud from wanting a cock shoved inside him, only spur him to act more assertively before Sephiroth can change his mind.

“Fuck me hard.” The words are like poison on his tongue, and Cloud squeezes his eyes shut in shame. His body is taking the wheel, and if he continues to protest, Cloud knows he’ll be in a worse state than if Sephiroth claims him.

A low, amused chuckle can be heard over his shoulder. Sephiroth presses forward, this time sliding his cock between Cloud’s cheeks. He doesn’t enter, only tease with its hot presence. “Should I make you call me **‘** Sir **’**? It’s been a long time since I’ve been addressed as General,” the man muses.

Cloud lets out a growl of annoyance and impatience. “Stop stalling.”

Sephiroth clicks his tongue. “Are you that greedy?” He finally angles the head of his cock against the eager hole and rubs against the stretched ring.

Cloud stops himself just short of pressing his hips back. “You started this,” he snaps back, irritated at the way he’s being toyed with.

“Yes, I did.” It’s not an apology; Sephiroth doesn’t sound the least bit apologetic. Cloud doubts the man knows the meaning of the word.

There’s a brief pause before Sephiroth slowly enters him. Cloud isn’t satisfied yet, and he presses his tongue hard against the back of his teeth to keep from begging once more for Sephiroth take him. It’s agonizing how slow Sephiroth moves, and a desperation Cloud wishes he doesn’t possess has him looking back at the man.

With the same abruptness when Sephiroth pulled his fingers free, he snaps his hips forward until he’s buried to the hilt. Cloud cries out and claws at the rock wall as his body jerks forward. He’s not ready when Sephiroth thrusts hard and deep; he can only brace his arm against the wall to keep from being slammed into it.

Sephiroth’s fingers dig harder into Cloud’s hip, making it bleed more profusely, and only after Cloud is singing a chorus of moans does he let go of the arm twisted behind the blond’s back. Cloud immediately slaps his hand against the wall and uses both arms as support.

He startles when Sephiroth grabs the wound at his side, and the balance of pain and pleasure tip towards the former. He grimaces as Sephiroth still drills into him, his expression screwing into great discomfort.

When he’s suddenly pulled back, Cloud can only follow, stretching out his arms as his hips are raised. The hand at his side snakes around his torso, leaving a bold trail of blood until it stops at the base of Cloud’s cock. Sephiroth momentarily slows his pace, grinding his hips against Cloud as he leans over him. “I was right.”

His fingers curl around it, gliding his palm along the length of Cloud’s erection. Cloud’s breath hitches slightly; he glances down at where Sephiroth is touching him. He feels himself drawing closer to his climax with every stroke of Sephiroth’s hand, and the rub of the man’s cock against the sensitive walls of his anus.

“This is where you belong. This is how it’s supposed to be.” Sephiroth suddenly releases him and drags his hand up Cloud’s torso. He covers the scar on Cloud’s chest with his palm, curling his fingers in as if to dig them deep past bone and muscles until it can clutch the fast-beating heart within. “You will always remember the feeling of me _thrusting_ inside you, _taste_ me on your tongue, _revel_ in the satisfaction only I can give you – just as you will always remember the day I gave you this scar.”

Distress pales Cloud’s face. Never has he been comfortable with someone touching him there, and having Sephiroth do just that kicks in the need to flee from it. However, Sephiroth raises angry red lines on Cloud’s flesh as he drags his fingers down the blond’s chest.

The taller man draws a dozen marks, denying Cloud safety in escaping. Cloud trembles with shuddered breath, and he flinches when Sephiroth grabs him by the back of his head. His head is jerked back, and his body rocks when Sephiroth resumes his earlier pace.

Heat blooms in Cloud’s chest, sparks of pain at the back of his head morph into pleasure as the sensation travels further down his body, and the continuous bleeding from his agitated wounds make him a little lightheaded. The merciless pounding at his backside further muddles his mind, and he does nothing to silence the moans escaping his lips.

He hates the state he’s in, yet he pushes his hips back against Sephiroth in invitation to destroy all thought beyond the hot pleasure coursing through his body. He gasps when Sephiroth jerks him away from the wall, pulling his head back until he has to arch his spine to avoid having his neck from being snapped.

Looking up, his vision is filled with Sephiroth’s face, handsome and dangerous. There is an indisputable alien quality to his features, and for a flicker of a moment, Cloud remembers the day he fell for this powerful creature. He was just a boy, enraptured by all that Sephiroth stood for, all that he had accomplished. He longed to be like Sephiroth, longed to be in his presence.

Never had he thought this would be the one way he could get close to the man – no, _monster._ Cloud bares his teeth at the taller man even as his body rides the chaotic waves of pleasure. He makes one more effort to show his defiance before his will shatters and he’s clinging to the fold of Sephiroth’s coat as climax fast approaches.

Cloud’s free hand comes down to his own neglected cock and furiously works at it. His breath is short and quick, brows knit together just before he hits his climax and spills cum onto the ground. His muscles clench around the thick cock deep inside him, silently begging for its release.

He doesn’t have enough time to be ashamed of himself for thinking that when Sephiroth growls and buries himself to the hilt as he reaches his own climax. Cloud groans as liquid heat pours into his depths, shuddering at the thought of it coating his walls.

Sephiroth’s hand moves from the back of Cloud’s head to encircle his throat. A predatorial smile is present on his lips, satisfied, amused, and triumphant. His breaths are deep and for a moment Cloud almost believes the man didn’t just fuck him raw, but the dick still nestled in his ass says otherwise.

Caught in the man’s hold, Cloud doesn’t make a move to rip free. He meets Sephiroth’s stare, unresisting when a gloved finger slips into his mouth. He doesn’t play with it on his tongue, but doesn’t deny the man from stroking his palate.

“You’re just as pleasing silent as you are crying out,” Sephiroth murmurs, his voice a deep purr. “Don’t think this to be a dream. I want you to remember with every inch of your body, every part of your mind, what we did.”

Sephiroth slowly pulls out. Cloud almost whines at the feeling of emptiness comes to him again – though, not quite so achingly because of the cum still housed inside him. He knows the heat of Sephiroth’s body, both within and around him, will linger, even after the evidence is gone and done trailing down the inside of his legs. For now, it’s still laying its claim.

Sephiroth releases him once they’ve separated, and Cloud has enough mind to grab for the rock wall before his legs can give out under him. His limbs shake as he tries to turn and face Sephiroth again, but he can only manage halfway. Sephiroth stands tall and impossibly collected as he tucks himself inside his pants. The wrinkles in his coat and stray smears of blood from when Cloud was pressed against him are the only telling signs that Sephiroth did anything debaucherous. On the other hand, Cloud knows what he looks like. His body is littered in marks, his clothes are shredded from battle, and the soreness of his backside is more than enough to broadcast what just happened.

“I wonder how long it will take you to recover. Can you make it back to your camp?” The concern in Sephiroth’s voice belies the apathy of his features. These questions are cruel mocking. “Do you have a spare change of clothes? I doubt your customers and ‘family’ will leave you be if you come to them in pieces.”

Anger ignites in Cloud as he’s reminded of how he’s supposed to be on the job. He’s not supposed to be here with Sephiroth, fucking out in the open. _How could he let himself be swept away by bodily cravings?_ Cloud forces himself to turn around, almost tripping over his pants as he does so. He grips at the rock wall to stay upright, eyes narrowing.

“This won’t happen again.”

Sephiroth gives Cloud a piteous look. “One day you’ll give in. Without all this pretense and fighting, you’ll come to accept what you are. And when you do, you know where I am.”

Cloud snarled. “The next time we meet, I’ll kill you.”

Arms opening in invitation, Sephiroth mocks him, “Come. We will do this all over again.”

Cloud attempts to right himself, but his legs give and he crashes to the ground. He sucks in harsh breath through his teeth, flinching when pain flares in the small of his back. Lifting his head, he glares at Sephiroth who looks down at him as a cat would at pitiful prey.

“Goodnight, Cloud. Sleep well.”

The cordial farewell isn’t returned as Cloud remains where he is. He watches Sephiroth leave, his lips pulling into a grim line as he looks down at himself. His sword lays several yards away, his one Materia slotted in its core. He doesn’t think he has the energy to get it, but he’ll try anyway. Carefully turning, he pulls up his pants and drags himself to his sword.

He all but collapses next to it, passing his hand over the green orb to call on its power. It’s terrible to think that at the same time he’s healing himself, he’s also sucking the life from the planet, but he just needs enough to close the worst of his wounds. He can bandage the rest later.

Once he’s certain the gash in his side is stitched, and the deeper cuts are closed, Cloud lets gravity pull him down. He’s tender in too many places, and he knows when he finally gets up he’ll be a sore mess. He’ll just have to hope his enhancements will allow him to tough it out enough to continue his journey. Regardless of how he feels, he has to keep going, and he’ll be damned if this _thing_ with Sephiroth slows him down.

Turning his gaze to the sky, Cloud groans and silently curses himself. He’ll ignore the emotions roiling inside him. This isn’t the path he’ll choose, no matter what Sephiroth says.


End file.
